“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh Mary! is that what you call me?” and then seeing how aghast I looked at the conclusion she had suggested for my thoughtless words she laughed involuntarily and said,
“Never mind dear, I am sure you never meant that! It is my evil conscience!”
At which I laughed too, and Colonel Deane coming in at that moment to take us down to the boat little thought how nearly he had surprised us in tears instead of laughter.
The crossing took us an hour and a half, and we made a bad start by running into the telephone wires! Then Mrs Greendays clutched at my arm and whispered fearfully, as the noise of the waterfalls made our visions of surf painfully realistic.
“Do you think we are very near the open sea now, Mary?”
But my only answer was to press her hand in return.
It was certainly not a happy time for any of us, for both Mr. Inspector and the boatman were so unmistakeably nervous, and so uncertain, too, of the direction they were rowing in, for it was pitch dark, the lanterns having proved worse than useless, that they infected everyone. But when we had become thoroughly accustomed to the gloom we were able to see and steer by the white waters of the Bowen Fall, and then by what looked at first like a glow-worm and proved to be a light at Sutherland’s. And finally we were able to make out the white outline of his launch, then the sheds, and at last drew up the boat alongside the stone wharf. Next came an endless stumbling along a stony track to the house, and just as we entered the gates a lantern came bobbing towards us and a voice cried,
“Is that you, Mr. Inspector? Now, didn’t I tell Sutherland it would be you, and do ye want to drown somebody? Why are ye risking the lives of all these people crossing the water at this time of the night? Don’t ye know it’s dangerous and the water that full of snags?”
Poor Mr. Inspector! On his devoted head fell all the blame though he deserved only praise and grateful thanks for his most kind and careful piloting of wilful people!
Mrs Sutherland calmed down when we were once inside her hospitable doors and did all she could for our comfort. It was nearly midnight, but she prepared hot tea and gave us plenty of hot water, rubbed my throbbing ankle, carried off our wet clothes to be washed and dried, and saw us snugly into bed before she left us.
The bedrooms were such delightful little white nests in the candle-light, with comfortable wooden bedsteads and kapok mattresses invitingly soft and cosy. And it was not many minutes before I was contentedly recalling the experiences of a very long day with the deepest thankfulness that it was safely over.
But everyone was not so well off, for I finally fell asleep with the strident tones of a foreign voice in my ears. Somewhere in a room near by an ardent
